


Bread for my Wife?

by Trinadecker



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Mistaken for Being in a Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:53:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28768875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trinadecker/pseuds/Trinadecker
Summary: Emma and Regina take Henry out of Storybrooke to celebrate his high school graduation. All is well, until the waitress assumes they're a couple -- and her assumption leads to the women finally addressing their feelings for one another.--The waitress nodded, jotting down her order. “And for your lovely wife?”“Her...what?!” Regina exclaimed at the same time as Emma chimed in “We’re not — "Henry looked like he was holding back laughter, eyes glinting as he glanced between his moms.The waitress’ cheeks lit up a bright red and she sputtered out an apology. “I’m so sorry, I just assumed — so sorry! I—"“They’re divorced, actually.”“Henry!” Regina scolded, wide-eyed, though Henry was clearly too busy laughing at her reaction to take her seriously.Emma rolled her eyes. “Careful, kid. She’ll ground you.”
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan
Comments: 19
Kudos: 411





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> yes, i'm using this trope again. no, i will not apologize

“My moms and I are celebrating my graduation!” Henry beamed, producing his funny square cap from beneath the table. It was decorated with pens and books and there was even a quill, a _real_ quill, pasted to one of the sides. It was ridiculous, and it was utterly Henry. Emma looked on fondly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes even as she felt a surge of pride at her son’s accomplishment. 

“Congratulations! And what can I get for the man of the hour?” The waitress asked, turning towards Henry, whose smile glowed as he ordered his meal.

This place was so much fancier than Emma was used to. She felt uncomfortable, overdressed, despite the fact that her outfit was actually pretty bland compared to the people around them. She hated it, really — but this was to celebrate Henry’s graduation. Just the three of them. And for that, she was prepared to make some sacrifices. 

She was wearing a dress borrowed from Regina, and a far too high pair of her heels as well. Lucky that they were the same size. Mary Margaret had tried to lend her something, and the look on her face when Emma had turned down the hideous garment had nearly broken her heart — that was, until Emma had shared that Regina would be lending her something. At that she’d accepted the turn of events, demanding photos.

_“You’re kidding, right? I can never get you in anything fancy!” Mary Margaret had stared at her for a moment, stunned. “That’s...wonderful, actually!” She’d shoved the awful pink dress she’d tried to lend Emma back into her closet. “You in Regina’s clothes. Just make sure it’s not all black. Or too sexy. But oh, please, pictures! I want to see! Plus, it’s Henry’s big day!”_

“And for you, ma’am?” The waitress was looking at her now, pen perched over her ticket pad.

“I’ll, uh...I’ll have the ribeye,” Emma settled, deciding to treat herself. After all, this was a special occasion. “With, uh, the broccoli. And fries,” she added, earning an eye roll from Regina. Her Majesty was seated across from her, looking far more regal in her own dress than Emma ever could. There was a candle on their table, and it caught the former queen’s eyes, lighting them golden. 

Swallowing, Emma turned away. 

The waitress nodded, jotting down her order. 

“And for your lovely wife?”

“Her... _what_?!” Regina exclaimed at the same time as Emma chimed in “We’re not —“ 

Henry looked like he was holding back laughter, eyes glinting as he glanced between his moms.

The waitress’ cheeks lit up a bright red and she sputtered out an apology. “I’m so sorry, I just assumed — so sorry! I—“

“It’s fine,” Emma took mercy on the poor girl, trying to ignore the heat rising in her own face.

“They’re divorced, actually.” 

“ _Henry_!” Regina scolded, wide-eyed, though Henry was clearly too busy laughing at her reaction to take her seriously. 

Emma rolled her eyes. “Careful, kid. She’ll ground you.” 

Regina met her gaze for a moment, mouth still hanging open, and Emma shot her an amused smile. 

“Again, I’m so sorry.” The waitress apologized yet again, looking like she’d rather be anywhere but at their awkward little family table. “My parents are divorced, too,” she added after a moment. “People are always assuming they’re still together, too.” 

Henry nodded sagely. “Don’t worry about it. It happens all the time.” 

A silence followed, until Regina abruptly cleared her throat and ordered her meal. She avoided eye contact with Emma the entire time, and when the waitress left, the silence continued. 

“Oh, come on guys, it was bound to happen eventually.” Henry glanced between them. “It’s really not that big of a deal.” 

“Of course it’s not a big deal,” Regina snapped, moving to take a drink of her wine. “She just caught me off guard, that’s all.” 

Emma peered across the table at her, noting the crimson in the other woman’s cheeks as she sipped. She nodded. “Yeah, it’s fine. Really.” She shot Henry a reassuring smile. “The divorced thing was a little much, though.” After a moment, she picked up the bread basket, grabbing a roll for herself before holding it out towards Regina. “Bread for my wife?” 

Regina rolled her eyes. “Shut up, Miss Swan.” 

Henry snickered, stopping immediately when Regina shot him a look. Emma shot him a smile, though, before adding, “Oh, that’s right. My ex-wife, sorry.” 

Regina didn’t dignify that with a response.

Henry smiled again before excusing himself. “I, uh, just have to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” He shot Emma a wink as he left. She rolled her eyes in response. 

Regina kept her eyes down on her phone, now that the menu had been taken. Her cheeks were still burning red. 

“You know, the kid’s right.” 

She looked up with a start, phone momentarily forgotten as she peered across the table at Emma. “What do you mean? That we’re divorced?” She fixed Emma with a glare, but there was no real fire behind it. Her cheeks, though, were another story.

“No, not the divorced thing.” Emma shrugged, tearing a piece of her bread off and spreading a bit of butter over the surface. “You know, that it was bound to happen,” She began. “Somebody assuming that we were a couple.” 

Regina’s mouth formed a tight line and her eyes dropped back to her phone. “I suppose.” 

“Probably just hasn’t happened yet because we never leave Storybrooke.” She shoved the bread into her mouth, giving Regina a moment to respond. When she didn’t, Emma plowed on. “And everyone in Storybrooke knows we’d never get together.” 

The line on the brunette’s painted lips dropped into a frown. It was ever so slight, only at the corners, but _still_ , there was a frown. 

Now _that_ was interesting. 

Emma paused, waiting to see if Regina would say anything back, or if that frown would ease. But neither happened, and she cocked her head to the side as she studied the other woman. “That is, unless, you want to get dinner sometime? Just the two of us, I mean.” 

That got a reaction. 

“What?” Regina’s eyes shot back up and she gaped at Emma. “Are you asking me out?” 

Emma shrugged, suddenly feeling a bit less confident. Still, she met the other woman’s gaze evenly. “What if I am?” 

The brunette was silent. She finally closed her mouth -- her jaw had dropped just a bit at the request -- and she swallowed. “I --” 

“The bathrooms here are so fancy!” 

Both women jumped at the interruption. Henry plopped back into his seat with all the grace of the gangly teen that he was.

“Seriously, moms, _everything_ was marble. The counters, the floor, _everything_. They even had a couch in there.” He glanced between his mothers, taking in the light blush across Regina’s cheeks and the small smile on Emma’s lips. “Did I interrupt something?” 

Emma shook her head. “Just antagonizing your mother, kid.” 

He peered at Regina, but when she said nothing, he only shrugged and reached for another roll. “What’s new?” He quipped, earning a soft chuckle. 

“Indeed,” Regina agreed. 

Their meals came soon after, and the rest of dinner passed without much incident. 

“You know, that was actually pretty nice. We should do dinners more often.” They were back in the benz now -- Regina had insisted on driving, naturally. Emma was settled in the passenger seat with the takeout boxes with their leftovers stacked on her lap, and despite the earlier tension, the familial nature of the night had her feeling a little bit warm and fuzzy. 

“We do dinners all the time, Emma.” Regina chimed in without looking away from the road. 

“Sunday dinners at my parents’ place doesn’t count. I mean, it’s nice and all, but it’s also hectic, you know?” Her parents were still living in that tiny loft, and Neal was five now, and it was just a bit cramped when they all tried to cram in for the evening. “I mean just the three of us.” 

“That’d be really nice. Right mom?” Henry peered expectantly at his mother. 

“Mm,” Was all she offered. Her eyes remained glued to the road. “We’ll see.” 

Emma frowned, and she caught Henry’s eye in the rearview mirror. He mouthed _sorry_ at her, and she only shrugged in response, hoping the other woman hadn’t noticed. 

They rode in silence after that. Soon Regina had them pulled up to the loft. Henry was staying there for the night -- cake was expected as soon as he walked through the door -- and the brunette popped the trunk. “Henry, dear, why don’t you go on up? I’d like to talk to Miss Swan for a moment.” 

“Sure.” He obliged, popping open the door and mouthing _sorry_ to Emma yet again as he ducked out. She rolled her eyes in response and he laughed. “See you guys up there.” 

The door thudded closed behind him, soon followed by the trunk, and both women watched as he trudged up the stairs with his overnight bag slung over his shoulder. When he was out of sight, Emma drew in a deep breath and turned towards the brunette. 

“So,” She began, trying to ignore the thudding in her chest, “What did you want to talk about?” 

Regina didn’t answer immediately. Her hands were still gripping the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. As Emma watched she released it, opting instead to wring her hands together in her lap. For a woman so well versed in confrontation, she sure had a lot of nervous ticks. 

“I didn’t get a chance to respond,” She finally began, still facing directly ahead. 

Emma feigned innocence, though she had a feeling she knew what the other woman was referring to. At least -- she hoped. “To what?” 

“You know what,” Regina snapped, but there was no venom there. “Come on, Emma.” She finally turned, meeting the blonde’s gaze. 

Emma only raised her brow. “Do I?” She was fairly certain she did, but, then again -- what if she was wrong? 

Regina shook her head. “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?” Emma didn’t reply, and Regina drew in a shaky breath, still wringing her hands in that nervous gesture. “Alright. Would you like to get dinner with me?”

Emma felt her heart stutter again, and she swallowed, trying to compose herself. “Are you asking me out?” She echoed the other woman’s earlier reply. 

“What if I am?” 

“Then I’d say yes.” She hurried the words out before she had a chance to back out, her heart still thudding against her ribcage, because, holy shit --

“Really?” Regina was staring at her now, wide-eyed, voice laced with disbelief. 

“Yes, really. I would -- I am. Yes.” Emma breathed. 

“I thought you were joking.” Regina continued to stare at her incredulously. She’d stopped her hand wringing, opting instead to clench them into fists over her thighs. “At dinner. I thought it was a joke.” 

Emma shrugged. “It wasn’t. I just didn’t think you’d ever say yes.” 

Regina let out a breath, visibly relaxing in her seat. “Okay then.” 

“Okay,” Emma echoed, a smile beginning to creep up her lips. “When?” 

“Oh. Right.” The brunette gave a breathy laugh. “Friday? I’ll pick you up at 7?” 

“It’s a date.” 

“A date,” Regina repeated, nodding. “Wear something nice. I’m not taking you to Granny’s.”

Emma laughed. “I’d expect nothing less.” 

They sat in silence for a moment, both women with flushed cheeks and shaky hands. 

“You have to come up for cake, you know.” Emma finally broke the silence. She offered Regina a smile, a sheepish movement, barely meeting the other woman’s eyes. “If you don’t they’ll only interrogate me on why you didn’t, and we both know that’s not gonna end well.” 

Regina gave a soft laugh. “I suppose you’re right.” She sighed. “Your mother’s going to be a handful when she finds out,” she added. 

“Hey, now, let’s take this one step at a time. We’ll deal with that when we get there.” Emma reached over, taking Regina’s hand in hers and giving a comforting squeeze. “Let’s go celebrate our son’s graduation. We can figure out the rest as we go.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't planning on writing another chapter to this, but all the kind comments and kudos inspired me to give it a second part! <3 It turned out a bit longer than I expected it to. I hope you all like it!

“Say cheese!” 

They were met with the instruction the instant they made it in the loft, followed by the flash of Mary Margaret’s camera as she snapped a picture of the two of them.

“Hey, woah,” Emma protested, “I thought this was Henry’s day. Take pictures of him instead.” 

“She has,” Henry groaned from his stool at the bar. “You guys were only down there for like, ten minutes and she’s taken at least six.” 

“Oh, hush. This is a day you want to remember.” Mary Margaret hurried over to the two women, proudly displaying the screen on her camera to show them the picture she’d taken. “Besides, Emma, I told you I wanted pictures of you all dressed up and you promised. Now look, isn’t that nice?” 

The flash made them both look a bit scary, Emma far too pale in Regina’s dress. The takeout boxes were still stacked in her hands, and she was wincing a bit at the bright flash of light. Regina, on the other hand, just looked concerned, like any surprise from Mary Margaret was not one she wanted a part of. But there was still a flush in each of their cheeks, and if you looked closely enough you could just make out their shoulders touching as they leaned towards one another. 

“It’s lovely,” Regina deadpanned, brushing past Mary Margaret to enter the kitchen. David greeted her with a hand on her upper arm. She shot him a sly look. “I expect that you’ll be deleting that one for me while she’s asleep.”

He shook his head, smile wide. “And face the wrath of the infamous bandit Snow White? Absolutely not.” 

“You’d rather face the Evil Queen?” Regina fixed him with her best evil glare, and Henry snickered from across the bar. 

“Definitely.” David nodded earnestly, laughing when Regina swatted his hand off her arm in response. 

“Alright, alright, are we going to have cake or what?” Henry slid off his stool -- he was so tall now that his feet nearly reached the floor -- and he swiped the platter with said dessert from the kitchen counter and deposited it on the bar. He held the serving knife out to David, who took it with a little flourish. Regina caught Emma’s eye, shaking her head with an amused smirk on her lips. 

“Cake it is,” David replied, and began slicing and plating. 

Mary Margaret took the takeout boxes from Emma’s arm, nodding when she thanked her. But she paused instead of heading towards the fridge, and Emma shot her a questioning look. 

The brunette studied her for a moment, eventually asking in a hushed tone, “What were you and Regina talking about down there? You two aren’t fighting again, are you?” 

Emma felt her cheeks flushing again, acutely aware of the fact that over her mother’s shoulder, Regina’s eyes were locked on the two of them. “No, we’re not fighting. Nothing important.” Mary Margaret raised a brow, not buying it. “Regina just thought it might be nice to, uh, throw Henry a surprise graduation party. You know. Get his friends involved.” 

She brightened immediately at the lie. “Oh, that’s a lovely idea!” She turned and shot Regina a thumbs up, clumsy with the takeout boxes still in her arms. 

Regina mimicked the movement, confusion and a little mockery written on her face. She met Emma’s eyes again, one brow raised, and Emma shrugged, mouthing, _I’ll tell you later_. 

Yeah, this was going to be fun. 

“Oh, Emma!” 

Emma turned to see Mary Margaret in her doorway, hands clasped at her chest, brimming with excitement as she took in the scene before her. 

“What do you think?” She asked, feeling a bit uncomfortable under the scrutiny. 

“You look incredible.” Her mother beamed, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair in. “Are you sure you won’t tell me who it is? I won’t tell anyone. Not even David.” 

Emma rolled her eyes. “No. Not until I know if it’s going to work out.” She felt her cheeks reddening again, because she was fairly certain that it _would_. If she was being honest with herself, a date with Regina had been a dream for some time now, just one that she thought would never come true. But here it was. 

“Oh, come on. Do I know him?” 

“No.” 

Mary Margaret eyed her. “That’s a lie, Emma. I know everyone in Storybrooke.” 

“Yeah, well.” 

She frowned. “At least tell me where you got that dress.” 

“Borrowed it from Regina,” was all Emma said, turning back towards the mirror to finish her makeup. That part wasn’t exactly a lie, at least. A garment bag had appeared on her bed two nights before, a small piece of paper pinned to the outside reading 

_For Friday. x_

Emma had turned the note over in her hands, folding it and setting it aside on her dresser with a small smile tugging at her lips. When she’d unzipped the bag a silky fabric had tumbled out. It looked far more expensive than anything Emma would willingly purchase. That said, Regina had probably conjured it herself. It was a deep emerald green, with off shoulder cap sleeves and a low sweetheart neckline. Her phone buzzed in her pocket as she studied the garment, and she pulled it out to find a text from Regina. 

_Does it fit alright?_

_Haven’t tried it on yet_ , she replied. Less than a minute passed before she received a response. 

_Can’t wait to see it on you._

“It’s so kind of her to keep letting you borrow things,” Mary Margaret said, her voice bringing Emma back to the present. “We should really go dress shopping so you don’t have to.” 

Emma shook her head, opting not to point out that she was a grown woman and could do her own shopping. Having somebody who wanted to take care of her was nice, even if it was long past necessary. There was a silence for a minute, and she looked back up from the mirror to see her mother studying her once again. “What?” 

Mary Margaret frowned. “You’re sure I don’t know him?” She paused before adding, “Or her?” 

_That_ made Emma’s heart stutter again. “Like I said, I want to see if it works out first.” She tried to go back to her makeup, but her hand was shaking ever so slightly. She decided to move on to her hair, plugging the curling iron into the wall and avoiding eye contact. 

“So it’s a woman, then.” Mary Margaret stated, laying a hand on Emma’s shoulder. “You know that’s okay, right? We love you.” 

“I know,” Emma replied, voice taught. It wasn’t that -- it was _which_ woman that she was afraid of them finding out.

Thirty minutes later she felt her phone buzz in the small handbag she’d opted for. 

_I’m here._

She took a deep breath, slipping her feet into a pair of heels and calling back to Mary Margaret that she was leaving. 

“Where’s your date?” Mary Margaret asked in reply, and Emma looked over to see the other woman with the curtains pulled back, peering out into the parking lot. 

Emma fought back a smile. “She’s out there. I told you, I’ll tell you later if it goes well.” They’d opted to have Regina pick her up out of sight from the loft, just in case. It made her feel like a teenager, sneaking out to meet somebody in the middle of the night. She gave her mother a quick hug. “I love you. Don’t wait up.” With that she ducked out the door before Mary Margaret could ask any more questions. 

Emma turned the corner of the building to find the benz pulled up to the curb, idling with Regina standing at the passenger side.

“Wow,” Was all she said, eyes drifting over Emma’s figure. 

“Wow yourself,” Emma breathed, doing the same. Regina’s dress was just as tight as her own, made of that same silky fabric only in a deep black. The neckline was cut in a low vee, and a gold necklace only served to accent the cut. Her hair fell in curls around her shoulders. 

“Shall we?” Regina opened the passenger door for her, smiling when Emma took her up on the offer. “You look lovely.” 

Emma returned the smile, sliding into the benz. “So do you.” When Regina had rounded the car and taken her own seat, she turned back to her, adding “Thank you for the dress, by the way. You didn’t trust me with ‘nice’ on my own?” 

Regina shrugged, smile turning to a mischievous smirk. “I wasn’t sure if you owned anything that fit the description.” 

“Nice. I’ll have you know I own _many_ nice dresses.” 

“Then why did you ask to borrow something for the other night?” 

“Because they’re all from my bounty hunting days. Dinner with my son doesn’t exactly call for low-cut and skin-tight.” 

“Mm,” Regina hummed. “How about dinner with your ex-wife?” 

Emma laughed. She glanced down at the garment Regina had picked out for her, which definitely fit both of those descriptors. “Yeah, that qualifies.” 

Regina opened the door for her again when they got to the restaurant. Emma slid out, surprised to see where they’d gone. 

“Twice in one week, huh?” She’d brought them to the same place they’d taken Henry a few nights before. 

Regina shrugged. “It’s the only decent place within an hour’s drive. That’s the problem with dropping a town into the middle of nowhere, I suppose.” She glanced at Emma, suddenly looking uncertain, traces of the nerves she’d shown in the car that night reappearing. “I hope that’s alright?” 

Emma laid a hand on the other woman’s arm. “It’s perfect.” 

Regina didn’t say anything, just offered her a small, genuine smile. Emma was still hovering half inside the door of the car, Regina with one hand still on the frame, and Emma was suddenly aware of their proximity. If she wanted to, she could lean in and kiss her --

Okay, it was probably too early for that. 

But still. 

Before the night was over, maybe? 

She felt her heart begin to flutter again, and she ducked her head, stepping out of the way so that Regina could close the door. “Shall we?” She echoed the brunette’s earlier question. 

Regina gave her name at the hostess’ stand and Emma couldn’t help but smile when she saw where they were being led. They were tucked into a booth this time, off in a more private corner of the restaurant as opposed to the middle table they’d been at with Henry. There was a candle lit at the center of the table, and the lights were dimmer in this area. Knowing Regina, she’d arranged all of this when she’d made the reservation. 

“Welcome back.” The same waitress from their night with Henry appeared at the end of the table, ticket pad in hand, looking a bit sheepish. “Out celebrating again?” 

“You could say that.” Emma replied. Across the table Regina had ducked her head, avoiding the waitress’ gaze, but the corners of her lips were curved in a tiny smile. 

“What’s the occasion?” 

“Second chances.” She couldn’t help it this time, she broke into a grin, and Regina rolled her eyes. “We’re giving our marriage another try.” That one earned her a soft kick under the table. 

“Oh, well, good for you! Can I get you started with something to drink?” 

Regina cleared her throat and ordered them a bottle of red wine, something expensive sounding that Emma hadn’t heard of. The waitress hurried off after they’d put in their appetizer, and Emma laughed under her breath.

“You better tip her well, after what we’ve put her through.” 

“You mean what _you’ve_ put her through,” Regina corrected her with a pointed look. “Besides, who says I’m paying?” 

“You’re the one that asked me out. That means you pay.” 

“You asked me out first.” 

“I wonder which one of us she’ll hand the bill to.” Emma mused. “Let’s wait and see.” 

The waitress returned with their drinks and appetizer and Regina poured them each a large glass of the wine. They put in their orders and the food came soon after. 

The conversation was easy, the label of ‘date’ thankfully not adding any pressure. After all, they’d known each other for almost a decade now, and they’d finally settled into an easy friendship within the last few. They talked about Henry, about the colleges he was applying to, about taking road trips out to see him if he went far away. About Emma needing to get out of that tiny loft with her parents. About Emma’s progress with her magic, about how they should really start practicing in the vault again -- it’d been awhile since they’d had any real down time. There was always some looming threat to Storybrooke to take care of. 

The latter conversation got them a few odd looks from the tables around them, and Regina shot them her best glare, earning a few snickers from Emma when they inevitably flinched away from the hard stare. 

“Damn. I haven’t seen that look in awhile.” 

Regina chuckled. “That’s a good thing, Emma.” 

The waitress reappeared then, and without a word she set the bill at Regina’s side of the table and ducked away before either woman had a chance to say anything. Emma broke into another grin. 

“That means she thinks you’re in charge.” 

Regina rolled her eyes. “Watch it, Miss Swan, or you can take care of this,” She teased, even as she slid her card into the book. 

“I had a really great time.” 

They were outside the loft now, pulled up to that same curb where Regina had picked her up, out of sight of prying eyes. 

“So did I,” Regina replied, and Emma turned to meet her eyes. She looked almost uncertain again, but she wasn’t wringing her hands. “We should do this again?” The words came out as a question, though Emma wasn’t certain if she had intended them that way. 

She offered the brunette a soft smile. “We should,’ she agreed, before sneaking a glance at the clock on the dash. _10:06._ “You know,” she added, “Mary Margaret and David should be in bed by now.” 

Regina broke into a smile, catching on to the implication. “I’ll walk you up, then.” 

“That would be nice.” Emma slid out first this time, rounding the car to open the door for Regina, earning her an eye roll.

“I’m fairly certain the driver is supposed to do that for the passenger, not the other way around.” Regina teased, though her voice was soft. 

“Yeah, well, there’s never been anything traditional about us, has there?” 

“I suppose not.” 

They made their way up to the loft, and when they got to the door, both women hovered for a moment. 

“Well, I suppose this is goodnight,” Regina said, eyes flickering between meeting Emma’s gaze and her hands. She was fiddling with the bracelet on her wrist this time, and Emma reached out to stop her, one hand wrapped gently around her wrist. Regina froze, and Emma moved slowly, reaching her other hand to cup the brunette’s cheek, giving her every chance to move away. But she didn’t, instead meeting Emma’s gaze and stepping closer. 

Emma leaned forward, pressing her lips to the brunette’s. It was a nice kiss, soft, slow. So different than everything else in their relationship thus far. Everything was always a flurry with them, fighting one another, making up, fighting someone else, fighting each other again. But this -- this was different. Like stopping to breathe when you’ve been rushing around. Like coming home after a long day. 

Regina snaked a hand around her waist, pulling her closer and extending the kiss. Emma moved her hand from her cheek to thread through her hair -- 

“Oh my god!”

The two women jumped apart to find, to their horror, the door to the loft wide open. Mary Margaret stood in the doorway, one hand clasped over her mouth, eyes wide.

“Mom! I -- I thought you’d be asleep by now!” Emma sputtered. 

Mary Margaret continued to gape at them, before shaking her head and stepping back from the doorframe. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, I just heard you outside and -- I’ll just be in here! Sorry! I’m just -- yep!” She closed the door again, eyes dropped to the ground to avoid eye contact. “Take your time! I’m not here!” The muffled shout came through the wood.

Emma shook her head, one hand moving to push her hair back from her eyes. Her cheeks were definitely red. “Well. That went well.” 

“So much for keeping this a secret,” Regina added, a sheepish grin on her lips. “There was less screaming than I thought there’d be.” 

“All things considered, it could’ve been a lot worse.” 

Regina shrugged and caught Emma’s hand in her own. “You have to admit, it was kind of funny.” 

Emma raised a brow. “Traumatizing my mother is funny?” 

“A little bit.” 

“You’re insufferable.”

“Ooh, she’s using big words now.” Regina teased, a devious glint in her eye. 

“I want another divorce,” Emma laughed, but she laced her fingers through the brunette’s, her other hand moving back to cup her cheek once more. It was Regina who kissed her first this time, and she kept it chaste. 

“Thank you for a lovely night, Emma.” Her cheeks were flushed, and she stepped back. “I should go before your mother comes back.” 

“Alright,” Emma conceded, letting the brunette’s hand go. “I’ll call you tomorrow?” 

“Perfect. Goodnight, Emma.” Regina ducked down the stairs, casting one last glance after her before she turned the landing. 

“Goodnight,” Emma called after her. She took a moment to compose herself, wiping off the smudge of lipstick that had made it to the side of her lips. She had to go in and deal with her shocked mess of a mother -- shocked, but not angry, she’d noted -- but still. The night had been perfect. 

Thank god for awkward waitresses.


End file.
